


We'll be Fine

by someonesaveme



Category: K (Anime), K-Project
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Slow Dancing, Suit Kink, post rok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonesaveme/pseuds/someonesaveme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not like Yata doesn’t want Fushimi to get along with his clan. He does. And what’s it matter to him that the Blue King likes to get real buddy-buddy with his clansmen? It’s weird, is all he’s saying. But fine. It’s all fine. He’s not so stupid annoyed he thinks he’s going to explode or something. Nope. </p><p>Apparently, knowing Fushimi belongs to another clan now and seeing exactly what that means for the two of them are two very different things. And also, Yata’s pretty sure he’s got a suit kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll be Fine

**Author's Note:**

> I know I’ve said that I believe Fushimi’s jealousy was actually pretty normal to feel. Like, depending on how you saw his relationship with Yata, the jealousy aspect started off as just friend/crush jealousy (turned wrong by mixing with all the other lovely crap happening back then). But like, it’s not a totally abnormal thing to feel when your relationship with someone suddenly changes so I thought, if it’s normal, then now that Fushimi’s out making his own relationships in his own clan instead of hiding in a corner and being miserable, wouldn’t it be Yata-chan’s turn to feel something similar? Especially now that they’re reconciled? And Yata so would too, it’d be pretty in-character imo. And it’d either be cute af or super angsty. So I had to write it. 
> 
> I actually think that, at the beginning at least, Yata’s jealousy would be a little pettier than Fushimi’s because 1) he doesn’t understand it and he hates not understanding things 2) when he doesn’t get something that bothers him, he’ll obsess over it and make himself more upset 3) he’s thee type to feel things hard and fast and is more likely to react to them, which is both good because it’s expressing emotions and bad because, well, you know temper and all that and 4) Yata’s simply not as good at burying his emotions so the stronger ones kind of take the forefront of his mind whether he likes it or not. Like I said, Fushimi’s was left to fester and compounded with a whole bunch of other crap (fear, disapproval, hallucinations of his dead dad, etc) to make one big crap-fest though. Yata (luckily) doesn’t have that “other crap” so the other angst isn’t there, allowing him to really stew in the pure jealousy (muahahaaha). 
> 
> I could’ve resisted turning it into a fluff-fest full of love and stuff but I didn’t. So that’s what it is. And there’s angst? There wasn’t supposed to be but I can’t help myself apparently. IDK.
> 
> I have Yata remember the moment in MOR when him and Fushimi meet up on the job. I also mention LSW a bit. You can still read if you haven’t read those.

Yata Misaki was face-planted onto the wooden bar. He was five drinks in now and obviously feeling it, muttering darkly to himself. It wasn’t all the beers though, usually the young man was a pleasant, if loud (very loud), drunk, but today he had marched into Bar Homra in a dark mood and demanded a beer. The dark mood lasted, the beer didn’t. He had downed his drink and demanded another. And another. And another. And another. 

Poor Kamamoto was in charge of the bar today and had no idea what was going on. All attempts to talk to his friend had gotten him yelled at and more drinking.

“Kamamoto, thanks for watching the bar. We’re back now,” Kusanagi said, holding a bag of groceries in one hand and holding the door open for Anna with the other.  

“A-ah, Kusanagi-san. No problem. Um, in fact, I can watch it a little longer if you want…”

But it was too late, Anna had noticed the young man currently trying to mash his face right into the expensive ceder wood bar and ran right up to him.

“Misaki, what’s wrong?”

“Mhhhmmmmph, g’way…”

She grabbed his sleeve and tugged a few times.

“Misaki, wake up. What’s wrong?”

“Mmmm? Wh’sat? … Anna?!” Yata yelled when he noticed who he was talking to, tumbling out of his chair. She made a move to try and catch him, but there was no way. Yata fell to the ground with a crash, knocking over something behind him and dropping his (glass) cup on the floor. 

There was silence in the bar. 

Kusanagi broke it first, sighing and setting his groceries down. 

“Kamamoto,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face, “don’t worry ‘bout any of this. I’ll handle it. Thanks for your help.”

“B-but…”

“Thank. You. For. Your. Help.”

Never let it be said that Kamamoto Rikio lacked survival instincts. He knew when to stay and fight and when to get as far away from an inevitable disaster as possible. He sent a silent prayer for his friend’s soul and bolted.

~~~

An hour later, Yata Misaki sat in the (now clean) bar; a bruise on his head, Anna next to him, and Kusanagi in front of him. 

“Now then, want to tell me why ya felt the need to take my alcohol without paying and mess up my bar?”

“… I’m really sorry, okay?”

Kusanagi sighed again. This seemed to be the day for sighing.

“Come on, Yata-chan. What’s got your panties all in a twist?”

Yata pointedly looked down and muttered, “…nothing.”

“Yata-chan…”

“I said it’s nothing, alright?!”

That got him another whack on the head. Swift and merciless.

“Don’t ya raise your voice at me when you’re in the wrong!”

Yata grabbed his head miserably and groaned. “Kusanagi-san, aren’t you supposed to be comforting me?”

“Who the hell said anything about that? Well, if I’m comforting you, I should hear what I’m comforting you for, right? I can already guess though, based on what Seri-chan told me…”

That got Yata’s attention. 

“Wh-what?” he sputtered, “That Blue-Lady went crying to you? Damn, why the hell couldn’t she have just stayed out of it?”

“Weeeeell,” Kusanagi said, grabbing Yata’s head and squeezing, “I could have a teensy-weensie bit to do with you interrupting Fushimi giving a report so you could ask him to hang out only to give a “loud, frustrated yell upon seeing him–like some barbarian” and tear outta the building while _on your skateboard_. Did you think of that, Yata-chan? Did you think of poor, poor Kusanagi-san who would get his ass chewed out by a very scary lieutenant because of _your_ actions? Did you?”

“Ku-Kusanagi-san… you’re killing me…” Yata protested weakly, grappling at the bartender’s arm to try and relieve some of the pressure off his head. Kusangi got the idea and let go. 

“G-geez, Kusanagi-san, you can’t keep doing that. I’ll seriously die one day.”

“If a little brain damage could kill you, you’d have been dead at birth.”

Yata chose not to comment on that, nursing his aching head instead. The alcohol also seemed to have worn off and his head was beginning to pound from that as well.

“Misaki,” Anna’s clear voice cut through his headache and Yata found himself turning towards her, “what happened with Saruhiko?”

Yata sighed and tried to find a way to explain it. It wasn’t as if he really understood himself, but ever since they made up he’s just been kind of annoyed at the weirdest things. Like, for example. one time he’d happened to pass a place that Scepter 4 was cordoning off and he saw Saru with the rest of his squad. He’d called out to him, but it was right when this tall, brunet guy who somehow reminded Yata of an overeager dog had also called out to him. Saru, being closer to the brunet guy, had heard him over Yata and turned to him instead. And for some reason, even though Yata himself was in a rush and wouldn’t have been able to stay long anyways, it really got to him. Then, when they were just hanging out later on, Saru mentioned how he wasn’t free Wednesday because “Hidaka” or something had convinced him to go to some gathering for Scepter 4 members. Saru must have used the words “stupid” or “useless” at least seven times when describing the get-together, but somehow the fact that he’d agreed anyways grated on Yata immensely. No, he hadn’t had plans with Saru on Wednesday, but he could’ve…

Then there was the workload. Yata didn’t know that _someone else’s_ workload could be that annoying to him, but Saru’s was getting on his last nerve. Yata often found himself stuck waiting for Saru to finish whatever paperwork he had and more than once Saru had actually _cancelled_ their plans to finish filing shit. It’s one thing if there’s a fight going on, but paperwork? Cancelling plans for paperwork. Just thinking about it made Yata so annoyed that it gave him a headache. How many times did that shitty Blue King want things repeated anyways? Didn’t he have that photographic memory or something?

And the Blue King himself…

For some reason he was the worst. Anytime he was in the room, Saru didn’t talk to anyone else. It was always “Captain this” or “Captain that”. And it wasn’t like it was Yata’s problem, but wasn’t that a little too much? Even if he was Saru’s King and all. 

But the worst part was how _stupid_ this all was. It wasn’t even Yata’s business. So Saru had friends in his clan, so what? So did he. So Saru did a lot of work. It was probably because Scepter 4 was the only one equipped to handle the fallout of destroying the Slates (granted, Yata had no clue what that meant, but Kusanagi-san and Anna were always reminding him to be grateful to the Blues for doing it so). And it wasn’t like someone like Saruhiko could be expected to abandon work for friends. Even when they hated each other, that was the case (Yata remembered seeing his friend for the first time after what seemed like an age in an abandoned warehouse, looking for drugs. Saru had barely spared him a sentence before going off to confirm the drugs instead. So Saru was a good worker. Yata _knew_ that). So the Blue King could actually make Saru laugh (quietly, but its there) and blush and could catch Saru off guard and had some secret language thing with Saru and seemed to take up the entire room’s attention whenever he walked in. So. What? Why, why, why was this his problem? What the hell did it matter to him?! It wasn’t as if this was a new development. Him and Saruhiko had been on separate clans for ages now.

They were hanging out more than ever now too. More than they had since…

Huh.

Well, since they joined Homra together. It wasn’t as if they didn’t see each other in Homra and they'd hung out occasionally and they had lived in the same freaking apartment, but just the two of them regularly meeting up and going out to arcades and stuff? They hadn’t done that in ages. Well, Saruhiko had admitted to him, right after they made up, that he’d felt a little lonely in Homra, like he’d been abandoned (okay so he’d muttered it, super reluctantly and under his breath, Yata painfully forcing every word out of his mouth, almost like he was embarrassed by it or something). 

BUT this wasn’t like that. They were hanging out. Not _every day_ but who could expect that? They were grown fucking men with their own lives. And Yata didn’t feel _abandoned_ … did he?

No. No, that was dumb. He was just annoyed. He got annoyed all the time. This time was no different. 

…but _why_ was he so annoyed then?

And then there was today. He’d wanted to surprise Saruhiko today with a visit. He was running some errands and was in the area, after all. There wasn’t any reason not to. He got signed into the building and got some random Blue to tell him where Saruhiko was at at the time. They’d pointed him in the direction of the meeting room and Yata hadn’t stayed to hear whatever the guy had to say next. He’d rushed off to the meeting room and burst in…

… where he’d found Saruhiko and his Captain. They weren’t even doing anything, just wrapping up their meeting. But the Blue King had a hand on Saru’s head and looked to be in mid-praise. And Saru’d had the same annoyed look on his face, but his cheeks were bright red and his eyes were, well, his eyes were all shiny and shit. Like he’d _never_ heard _anyone_ praise him before.

And that _pissed Yata off_. For no reason. But it did. It’d pissed him off so much he’d just screamed and ran out the building before he could actually think about what he was doing. 

And by the time he’d made it back to Bar Homra, his face was bright red from a combination of his earlier anger, exertion, and just plain embarrassment. It’s not like he wasn’t aware he’d made an idiot out of himself. 

That’s where the story left off. That’s what was wrong. He just… got annoyed. He’d _been_ getting annoyed. And it felt familiar somehow. He was pretty sure he’d never felt _this_ before, but he’d felt something similar. What was it?

Yata wanted to tear his hair out, it was on the tip of his tongue. It was times like these he wished he had his mother’s mastery of emotions.

 _Wait_ , Yata thought, _mom._ _That’s right, mom_.

There was a time, when Minoru was first born, that Yata had hated the squirming little thing. It was just a short while, but Yata would try to sell him to people that came over and tried everything he could think of to get rid of the new baby. And every time he’d see his mom hug the infant, he’d get unnaturally annoyed. Until one day his mom had bent down to take a look at his his pouting face, laughed and said–

“ _Oh, Misaki, you’re still my big, strong man. Now, now, just because there’s Minoru doesn’t mean mom doesn’t love her big man. Don’t be all–_ ”

“Jealous.”

“Misaki?” Anna asked, head tilted to the side.

“No. No, it’s nothing, I’m still thinking.”

 _Jealous?_ Yata thought, _There’s no way, right? Why would I be? That’d be dumb. But it feels the same. Well, not the **same** same, but close. But there’s no way. And because of Saru? I’m not_. 

“Misaki,” Anna called out again, catching his attention, “Are you jealous because Saruhiko’s got his new clan now?”

“W-wh-wha-wh-what? NO!”

_Come on, don’t sound dumb._

“I just. I just don’t like it. I’m annoyed, yeah, that’s all. Annoyed. I just get… annoyed whenever Saruhiko’s ignoring me for… things. I mean, he’s busy but I’m his best friend, right? Well, I think I am, at least. I guess he could have _another_ best friend now. A cooler one. Someone in his own clan. Who can help him with work and stuff…”

Suddenly, Yata remembered cruel words on a screen flying across his PDA. He remembered friends who didn’t want him anymore. He remembered the feeling of sitting lonely in a bathroom stall. He remembered the excitement of befriending the weird gloomy kid who was actually a super scary genius.

“ARRGH! WHY DOES THIS ANNOY ME?”

Kusanagi and Anna both jumped back a bit at the scream, but they held their tongues and let their friend finish. They figured he’d get to the heart of the problem sooner or later.

“I mean, it doesn’t even matter does it? It’s just Saru. It’s not like I have no life outside of Saru. But I’m trying here–I’m trying to get things back to the way they were. But Saru just… I mean, he’s not doing… Well, I guess he’s trying to…”

“And that damn Blue King! What’s up with him? Do you really have to pat people on the head to praise them? Saru’s not some little kid. That’s so dumb. And it’s none of my business, I know, but it’s still creepy right? It’s totally creepy. Yeah, that’s it. I just think it’s creepy. That’s all it is. And how he keeps looking for Saru all the time. Creepy. He’s got a huge-ass clan right? How come he’s got to ask Saru for everything? That makes no sense. There’s, like, _hundreds_ of those Blues. Creep. Slave-driving creep. I just, I hate people like that is all.”

And having ranted himself out, Yata seemed to deflate right in front of his friends’ eyes.

“I don’t even know why it’s so annoying. It’s not even any of my business…” he said in a soft voice as he slumped into his corner seat again. 

Then, in an even softer voice, he muttered, “But it feels weird, you know? Like-like… It’s like it was easier to get him to pay attention when we were fighting than it is now.”

The last words were tinged with bitterness and as soon as Yata said them, he wanted to swallow them back. It wasn’t even true, right? Fushimi hung out with him _a lot_ more now. Before they’d reconciled, he could count on his hands the number of times he’d even _seen_ Fushimi over the course of the entire four years. He _hadn’t_ meant those words. 

But he also  _had_ or he wouldn’t have said it _._

Yata clutched his head, feeling his headache get even worse. All this thinking wasn’t helping.

As Yata ranted, Kusanagi and Anna shared a meaningful look. A look that seemed to say, “Again?” and, “Well, at least this one is expressing it,” and, “Are you sure that’s a good thing?”

“It’s ironic,” Anna says out loud after staring a little bit.

“Anna?” Kusanagi prompts.

“Look where he’s sitting.”

Kusanagi looks over and almost laughs out loud. Yata was seated in the corner Fushimi used to be in all the time–gloomy and silent, burying his emotions with a fervor and refusing to say what was bothering him.

Well, at least Yata wouldn’t be able to do _that_. They could work with this. 

“What the hell’s so funny?” Yata asked miserably, still slouched in his seat.

“Misaki is jealous,” Anna said.

“I said I’m not already.”

“You are. It’s okay.”

“So,” Kusangi said while lighting up a cigarette (something told him he’d need one), “Whatcha gonna tell Fushimi?”

Yata sat up straight so suddenly, his spine might have fractured a little. 

“Who the hell says I’m saying a damn thing to him?”

Kusanagi and Anna both sighed.

“What?” Yata demanded, on the defensive now, “Even if I am jealous, I’m not about to go crying to Saru about it. That’s dumb. It’s… embarrassing.”

Anna looked equal parts amazed and incredulous, in her own impassive way, and said, “Misaki, you’re just like Saruhiko used to be. You think like how he used to think.”

“What? Whattya mean, Anna?”

“Saruhiko used to be jealous before too. Same as you. Jealous because Homra was taking you somewhere he couldn’t follow.”

Saruhiko? Jealous? The thought almost made Yata want to laugh. No way. Sauhiko? If he’d been like this back then, Yata would’ve noticed.

Right? He’d have noticed, right?

 _Saru has that tendency to not say anything. Especially when embarrassed_ , Yata reminded himself.

But then, he’d still have noticed. He wasn’t that dense.

_But you were busy. There was Homra and Mikoto and it was all so new, so exciting. And Saruhiko was being even gloomier, was talking even less._

And then there was their make-up talk. Saru had reluctantly admitted he was lonely. Like he was embarrassed by it or something.

_Oh, shit._

“Saru… was… jealous? Same as me?”

“Well,” Kusanagi teased with an amused smile, “Not exactly the same. Needless to say, Fushimi was a lot quieter. And he didn’t drink himself to a stupor.”

“Saruhiko was more embarrassed. And scared. And confused,” Anna said, “I don’t think he ever knew what it was he felt. Misaki’s better at feeling things.”

“Then-then he was jealous because I went to Homra? Jealous of… of _my_ King? Of _Mikoto_ - _san_?”

Right. Yata remembered. Saru and Mikoto-san. The air around them was always heavy with _something_. Something unpleasant. 

“Did-did he hate Mikoto-san because–?”

“No,” Anna said, clearly and leaving no room for argument, “He didn’t really hate Mikoto and it wasn’t really because of that.”

“It didn’t help anything,” Kusanagi chimed in, “But the main problem between Mikoto and Fushimi was because of something else. Well, a lot of something elses. They kind of just didn’t click in the end, and they both knew it.”

Kusanagi shook his head. “That’s something for you to ask Fushimi though,” he said with a tone of finality that let Yata know that line of conversation was over now.

Yata felt he could breathe a little easier with just that though. It wasn’t because of him. What a relief.

“But back to the matter at hand,” Kusanagi continued, “What are you planning to say to Fushimi?”

Yata froze. “How come I gotta say something? Saru didn’t.”

Even as the words left his mouth, Yata knew they weren’t gonna fly. It sounded childish even to him. But _no way in hell_ was he going to willingly bring this kind of shit up.

“Just because Fushimi didn’t, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t,” Kusanagi said, “He was sixteen then, you really wanna compare to a sixteen year old, Yata-chan? And besides, Fushimi also never ‘yelled like a barbarian’ and ran away with no explanation either. Yata-chan, it’s not a matter of want anymore. You won’t have a choice.”

Yata didn’t answer. There was truth in those words, but he didn’t want to hear them right now. He just wanted to nurse his headache and forget any of this happened.

Kusanagi took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out before asking, “Besides, why didn’t Fushimi say anything? Do you know?”

That got Yata’s full attention. Wanting to understand his best friend more, he gave Kusanagi his full attention.

“Why?”

“Well, he probably thought it was stupid. He was embarrassed. He thought it was pathetic and was afraid bringing it up would bring him nothing good. That you’d laugh at him or that you’d be disgusted and hate him. It was irrational so he ignored it.”

Yata looked indignant.

“But that’s so stupid!” he exclaimed, “It’s a feeling, right? Why would he be so embarrassed? Why would he bring it up? Laugh at him? Hate him? _What_? It’s supposed to be irrational, that stupid Monkey! I keep telling him to tell me these–”

“Yeees,” Kusanagi drawled, “Yep. It’s stupid isn’t it? Why would be feel any of that? It isn’t true. He should’ve just brought it up with you, right? It’s no good to keep everything buried away, right? You’d better set him straight, Yata-chan.”

Yata looked indignant and angry for half a second more before catching onto the hidden message and, once again, deflated.

“How would I even bring it up?” he lamented after a slight pause, “And where? Kusanagi-san, it’s no good to just _tell_ me to say something. How?”

Kusanagi seemed to think this over. Then, he whipped out a phone and texted someone. Two seconds later there as a small ‘ping’ as his phone received a message. 

“Right, Yata-chan,” Kusanagi said, turning to the younger man with a smile, “How’d you like to join me for a party this lovely evening?”

“…huh?”

~~~

Yata pulled at the collar again. 

“Kusanagi-san, why the hell am I even here?”

“Yata-chan, I told you. I wanted some company and you needed some fresh air. This all works out.”

“That’d be great,” Yata whined, still pulling at the suit collar, “If I could breathe any of this ‘fresh air’ you’re talking about around this damned thing.”

A party. A dinner party. A fancy-ass dinner party. At some rich-ass gallery. That’s where Kusanagi had brought him.

 _What the hell was he thinking?_ Yata lamented, going up the stairs leading to the fancy-ass glass building, _I’m the **last** person you’d take to these things, right? How’s this gonna make me feel any better_?

“Kusanagi-san…”

Kusanagi sighed and said, “Just bear with it, okay? And who knows? You could have fun. Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

The word’s ‘meet someone’ seemed to be dripping in meaning. It was so emphasized that even Yata couldn’t miss it. Though, that didn’t mean he knew what it was about. But he couldn’t believe Kusanagi-san had dragged him halfway across town in a freaking monkey-suit just to attend some rich-ass gallery showing. 

 _Besides, when the hell did Kusanagi-san start coming to these lame pansy parties_?

Yata and Kusanagi made it to the door where someone in a fancy suit took their PDA’s and waved them in. He’d even called Yata ‘sir’ and everything. This was unbelievable. 

The inside was no better. The building was made almost entirely out of glass; which made Yata wonder why the hell they bothered making this a private party because if people outside could see everything anyways then why not just let everyone in and save the pomp and circumstance? There was a stage with an orchestra playing an paintings on every wall, but only about two or three per wall. The gallery had a total of five floors and the center room Yata had just entered had a high roof that reached all the way to the top. Servers flitted between the guests who were all wearing clothes worth at least a thousand times more than all of Yata’s possessions put together. 

Yata decided then and there that this was hell.

He vaguely registered Kusanagi waving to someone and moving through the crowd, too focused on the bright lights and rich people all around him. He didn’t even realize he had been lead to the second floor until he looked up and saw….

Female.

It was a woman. Scepter 4′s lieutenant woman, to be exact.  In a deep blue halter top dress, her hair tied into a delicately curled ponytail.

But. Female. In front of Yata. A real-life woman. He wasn’t expecting that, that wasn’t fair. He screeched and stumbled backwards, flailing his arms as he did, and some rich douche behind him tutted. Tutted!

 _Well fuck you too_.

“Yata-chan, is that all you have to say to the lovely lady who invited us here tonight?”

 _Huh_? was all Yata managed to think, his mind still blanked out. 

“Judging from the look on your face, your bartender has just played a rather nasty trick on you. You’d do well to choose your friends more carefully in the future, Yata Misaki,” Awashima said, glaring lightly at Kusanagi.

“Seri-chan, that’s kind of harsh, you know? That’ll hurt a guy’s feelings.”

“Scepter 4 are the artist’s private special guests tonight. Almost all of us are here. A lot of the art here has been inspired by us and our work, after all. The fourth and fifth floors are almost exclusively paintings of Scepter 4 and its members. As you could expect, at least the higher ranking members are expected to stay the night and show their respect,” Awashima continued on explaining the situation to Yata as if Kusanagi hadn’t even spoken.

“I had thought you could keep Fushimi-kun some company. He has attended a few of these, but he always seems so lifeless. And tonight is the first time he’ll be expected to remain for the entire thing. I’d thought that a friend could make this ordeal less… painful. I don’t think Fushimi-kun is much for crowds. Or attention.”

Awashima stopped talking and looked to Yata for a response. Only to find him looking wide-eyed at something a little further off. She and Kusanagi followed his line of sight to find… 

Fushimi Saruhiko. In a suit and tie. His hair was straightened out and tied back instead of in its usual spiked do.

And Yata remembered very suddenly that Saru was actually always pretty attractive. Scratch attractive, he was downright captivating right now.

And miserable.

And absolutely _swarmed_ by a horde of women. Ages 18 and up. Way up.

Yata stayed silently gaping but Kusanagi let out a whistle. “Man, he sure is something, huh? Are women really into that look so badly?”

Awashima rolled her eyes at her companion and said, “Don’t be disgusting. It’s rather normal, is it not? He’s attractive, young, talented, and successful. The government is closely tied to Scepter 4, now more than ever since we arrested the last Prime Minister. Captain’s been pretty much running things until we can settle things down and it’s no secret who his closest aides have been in that endeavor. There isn’t a head that wouldn’t naturally turn for that.”

Awashima then gave a fond shake of her head and said, “And Fushimi’s own extremely infrequent public appearances are his undoing, I’m afraid. He’s allowed people with too much time and money on their hands to invent their own story about what Scepter 4′s youngest is ‘really’ like. Apparently our Fushimi is a sickly, but hardworking boy who’s quiet nature belies his gentle earnestness.”

Kusanagi almost fell over. Awashima spared the man another glance, but seemed to agree.

And Yata, who had actually been listening if responding, told himself he didn’t care (which he actually was pretty sure didn’t because Fushimi obviously was enjoying this about as much as he could’ve been expected to enjoy a nice leafy salad). But he did. Because he wanted to talk to Fushimi. He wanted to talk to Fushimi  _now_. 

He wanted to tell Fushimi he looked awesome and how amazing it was that he got all those people to look at him and that Fushimi would be fine this party if he just stayed next to Yata and that Yata would protect him from old cradle-robbing grannies and that he didn’t have to worry about a thing and that he could hold Yata’s had if he wanted and that he had really awesomely long legs and awesomely shiny hair and awesomely pretty eyes and-and-

And what? What the hell?

Yata was always aware Fushimi was beautiful. He was really good looking for a man. It made Yata a bit self-conscious once or twice to be honest. But it was never a big deal, they were men after all. It didn’t matter.

Except this mattered. This definitely mattered. Yata had never seen Fushimi in a suit before. Never. He’d have remembered if he had. He’ll remember this. He’ll remember the way that suit fit on Fushimi, remember the way the pants accentuated how long and slender Fushimi’s legs had always been, remember how Fushimi’s (way too long) eyelashes almost fluttered as he blinked in bored annoyance, remember the way too bright lights only made it more obvious how delicately thin (and probably soft) Fushimi’s skin was. He’d remember the tie around Fushimi’s thin neck and he’d remember how the dark material of Fushimi’s suit made him look almost translucently pale. 

Oh yeah, Yata knew he’d remember this. He couldn’t string enough thoughts together at the moment to say why, but he just knew. This wasn’t a sight he’d forget anytime soon. Or any time ever.

Now if only he could get to Fushimi and actually _talk_ to him. But there was about ten or twelve women in between them and it was starting to frustrate the hell out of Yata.

Awashima gave him a look and smiled. 

“Fushimi!” she called to her subordinate, voice sharp and commanding, “Come over here for a bit, will you?”

Yata could see the relief that flooded the other man even from a distance. Fushimi quickly excused himself and probably would’ve run to his lieutenant’s side if he could’ve. 

“Lieutenant,” he said, sauntering over briskly and loosening his tie as he did, “Thanks for the save. Or did you actually need me for something?”

Awashima sighed and went over to meet him. She reached him and immediately grabbed the tie and collar he’d managed to screw up on the walk over, trying to fix them. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop playing with those, Fushimi? You’re representing all of Scepter 4 here. You’re no longer a child, a suit isn’t going to kill you.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue in response, but made no move to stop the older woman’s ministrations. He simply looked away and muttered what may have been a “please excuse me” under his breath, but it was too quiet to be heard clearly. Then, he looked up, took a look over Awashima’s shoulder and froze too.

“Misaki?” he asked incredulously, voice pitched a little higher than normal.

He clicked his tongue and took a minute to get his voice back to normal (and to wait for the Lieutenant to finish with his tie) and then walked over. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you at one of these things. What’s up, Kusanagi-san? Why’d you drag this one here?” Fushimi asked, jutting a thumb in Yata’s direction as he addressed the older man.

Yata bristled at his tone and got ready to say something equally scathing in response, but couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the suit on Fushimi’s body soon enough. Kusanagi cut him off as he was still trying desperately to form words.

“Yata-chan had something he wanted to apologize for, right Yata-chan?”

 _Apologize? Oh yeah_. 

Fushimi clicked his tongue again. “If you’re here with an apology for earlier today, you might want to aim it towards the Lieutenant. She’s the one who caught the brunt of the mess.”

“He’s also here to talk to you, Fushimi,” Kusanagi said without missing a beat. 

That caught Fushimi’s attention. “Talk to me? What about?”

Knowing now that he’d been lead into a trap, Yata sent a heated glare over at his clanmate before turning back to Saruhiko. 

“Er, well, see…”

He sucked in a deep breath and braced himself for the conversation. He was ready. He was totally ready. This was happening. This was going to happen now. Right now. He knew what to say. Okay.

“Listen, Saruhi–”

**BLAM**

“Fushimi-saaaan!” the red-headed blob that crashed right into Fushimi’s side and nearly toppled him over screamed, “Hide me! Please!”

“Domyoji–what?!”

“Kamo’s being so unreasonable, it wasn’t even my fault!”

Fushimi’s face twisted in annoyance and rolled his eyes at the other man still clinging to his side, “Stupid, like hell. Go and face the music. Or flee the country and never come back. Either way, let go of me.”

Yata watched Fushimi argue with his clanmate and felt a little annoyed. Couldn’t that moron see Saru and him were about to have a conversation? And besides, which grown man goes running to Saru to solve their problems, as if the guy’s some fix-all solution?

 _You_ , the more rational part of his brain supplied unhelpfully, _all the time_. 

The knowledge, while frustratingly slightly true, did not do anything for Yata’s obviously darkening mood. Someone was bound to notice too. Sometimes, only sometimes though, Yata wished Fushimi would take some of that ability of his to bury all his emotions and never let them see the light of day and give a little to Yata. 

Yata was so busy stewing that he didn’t get to hear what exactly Domyoji “hadn’t” done to make this Kamo so upset. But Fushimi obviously had. He sneered and called Domyoji an idiot again. The he made a move to go upstairs. Yata presumed it was to clean up whatever mess Domyoji had left. 

Yata’s hand shot out before he could stop it and latched onto Fushimi’s suit.

“Misaki?” Fushimi asked, shaking off the contact on instinct, “What?”

Yata stood there, mouth opening and closing, trying to find an explanation but coming up blank. 

“Don’t. Just, stay and talk.”

Yata closed his eyes for the inevitable.

“Huh? No way, I can’t. Didn’t you hear what Domyoji just said?”

Yata hadn’t, but he knew it had to be important to have garnered such immediate attention. He still didn’t let go of Fushimi’s blazer though. 

“Misaki, let go.”

Yata slowly released the material he’d clung onto, one finger at a time. When Fushimi was finally free, he almost looked like he wanted to say something, but then someone upstairs called his name and he turned to face whoever it was. The next thing Yata knew, Fushimi was speed-walking away with Domyoji, the Lieutenant lady, and two other members of the Blues.

“We’ll be right back,” one of them, maybe Fushimi or maybe Awashima, had called over their shoulders.

Yata watched his friend’s retreating back and suddenly was hit with the urge to scream again.

~~~

Kusanagi and Yata saw both Awashima and Fushimi heading back towards them no more than fifteen minutes later. Along with the Blue King himself.

“Arrrrgh,” Yata heard Fushimi groan as the three moved closer to where they were, “That Domyoji… Can I have just one day that’s not plagued by his stupidity?”

Awashima sighed, silently agreeing with her younger subordinate.

Munakata chuckled and said, “Good job, the both of you. It’s impressive how quickly you responded, even in this kind of setting.”

The group of three reached the two Homra members just as Munakata was finished saying that. Therefore, it was impossible for the pair to miss how both clan members seemed to stand a little straighter with their King’s praise. 

Fushimi, in particular (or at least, Yata felt that way). His eyes shone again, just like they had this morning. 

Yata bit his lip to keep from creating a scene, his annoyance level quickly spiking up for no reason once again. He couldn’t help shooting the Blue King a quick, sharp-ish glance though. The King himself either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Fushimi hadn’t noticed, he’d been busy paying attention to his King.

Yata wondered why that tiny little detail irked him so much. 

“Feh,” Fushimi said, looking at his captain, “You say that, Captain, but you were there before either of us, right? What’s so impressive about getting there after the matter was practically resolved?”

“On the contrary, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata replied, “I was simply in the area. You, on the other hand, had two flights of stairs between where you were and where the situation occurred and yet you still arrived mere minutes after the incident. I stand by my earlier praise.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue and, not even pausing, said, “In the area? Captain, last I saw, you were on the floor _below_ this one. Please explain that.”

Munakata didn’t reply, choosing instead to turn to Yata and give him his full (and creepy) attention.

“My, my, Yata-kun. I have become accustomed to seeing Kusanagi-shi’s face at these sorts of things, but you are a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe the honor? Are you here to keep our Fushimi-kun some company?”

Yata shrunk back a bit, feeling a bit like a bug under a microscope. “Jealousy” or whatever aside, he was sure he’d never get used to this guy. 

“Captain,” Fushimi interrupted before Yata could string together a response, “please stop treating me like some lonely dog who needs a pet-sitter. He’s just here because he had something he wanted to say.”

“Oi, Saru,” Yata said, turning his attention to his friend and away from the (creepy) Kings, “Don’t answer for me. I could be here to-to… dance.”

Dance was not what he’d wanted to say. At all. But he’d turned his full attention over to Fushimi and been once again hit with the realization that Fushimi was _really fucking pretty_. 

And now, laughing at him. 

“Pfffffft,” Fushimi snorted, failing to muffle his laughter fully.

“Dance, you say? You? Really, Misaki? Is what you have to say _that_ bad that you’ve got to use that kind of shit excuse to try and get out of it? What happened? Did you burn down the bar? Finally got your gangster ass kicked out of your apartment?” Fushimi teased with no malice, and he fucking _giggled_ all the way through.

Frustratingly enough, the sight of Fushimi laughing ( _actually_ laughing out of _actual_ mirth) was somehow enough to make Yata’s face and neck go completely red. He tried to tell himself it was anger, but Fushimi was only teasing, anyone could see that, and Yata wasn’t _that_ volatile.

Although, now that he thought about it…

“HEY! Stupid Saru, why the hell couldn’t I be here to dance? You saying you don’t believe me? I said I was here to dance and that’s what I’m gonna do, so suck it!”

(Alright, so he was a _little_ volatile.)

Everyone but the Blue King (who didn’t count) looked taken aback for a minute. That just pissed Yata off more. Kusanagi knew he wasn’t here to mingle, but was it really so unbelievable to the rest of them that he wanted a night out in a fancy whatever-this-place-was?

“Misaki,” Fushimi said exasperatedly, breaking the momentary silence, “just say what you’re here to say, will you? Kusanagi-san dragged you here just so you could tell me something, right? Let’s hear it then.”

“Kusanagi-san doesn’t know everything! I came here for some fresh air!”

 Next to him, he heard Kusanagi’s facepalm. But this was now a matter of pride. He was Homra’s vanguard, dammit. He could come and go as he pleased. Who the hell said it _had_ to do with what that stupid Saru did?

Fushimi clicked his tongue and said, “Well, feel free in that case. The company here is simply _thrilling_.”

Before Yata could tell Saru that he would feel very free, thank you very much, the Blue King interrupted by chuckling lightly. 

“Now, now, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata lightly chided his subordinate, “I don’t think you ought to talk like that. We were, after all, _generously_ invited to this _lovely_ party by such company. We should enjoy it to the best of our ability.” 

Yata narrowed his eyes, he could never tell when this man was being sarcastic but there was an edge to his tone that could be sarcasm? If he didn’t want to be here, why not say so? Why all the passive-aggressiveness?

Yata _hated_ passive aggressive (he also hated how Fushimi’s shining, mirth-filled eyes turned right to his King, but that was neither here nor there).

Fushimi chuckled himself and said, “I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it, Captain. I said thrilling, right? I’m thrilled, honestly. I’m just worried about all the work that was _generously_ shoved onto me earlier, still sitting undone on my desk.”

And for some reason that Yata didn’t get, despite that much work being a bad thing, Fushimi sounded oddly amused (pleased?) by what he’d just said.

And there they went again. With this secret-hidden-meaning talk that Yata hated so much. Kusanagi-san, Anna and Totsuka-san had done it _all_ _the_ _time._ Anna and Kusanagi still did it. And at some point, they’d all done it with Fushimi too. It never failed to get to Yata. Why couldn’t people just say what they meant? Yata knew he was bad at catching these things, but they didn’t need to shove it in his face. But apparently, secret-message-talk was all Saruhiko and his King talked in. He’d never, even after he started spending some time in Scepter 4 HQ with Fushimi, heard The Blue King directly ask Saruhiko for something and Saruhiko had never given the guy a direct response that said everything he meant. It was all this hush-hush-secret talk that Yata couldn’t understand. Something between them.

Something that Yata couldn’t be a part of.

And, well, it wasn’t really that important, was it? It wasn’t like Saruhiko _expected_ him to understand these things, he knew better. 

Except somehow, right at this very moment, it was the most important thing ever. And he was seething over it for some reason. 

…Maybe there was something to Anna’s “jealousy” theory after all. 

Knowing wasn’t helping anything though. In fact, it was all the more reason to **not** say anything. 

Yata had been so busy sorting his thoughts that he hadn’t seen the Blue King watching him contemplatively at first. It seemed Fushimi had gone to talk with Kusanagi-san, leaving him to stare creepily. 

“Wh-what’s your problem?” Yata snapped upon noticing the look he was getting. Damn, the guy hadn’t even done anything and he was already freaking Yata out. 

“Hm?” Munakata replied mildly, “Oh my apologies, I was just thinking of your wish to dance. I, too, would like to enjoy some dancing right about now.”

“…”

“I ain’t dancing with you.”

“Hm,” Munakata huffed, “Well, that is a pity.”

Muakata turned to the others and Yata sighed in relief. 

“How about you, Fushimi-kun?”

Yata’s blood ran cold, he didn’t even think he could move.

“What the hell are you on about now, Captain?”

Yata didn’t know why, but he prayed the Blue King would leave it at that. Except, it wasn’t like the thought of Saruhiko dancing was all bad. Just, he didn’t want it.

 _I want Saruhiko to dance with_ –

With who exactly? Yata couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but the thought of Saruhiko dancing with anyone but _that_ _person_ made Yata want to ~~cry~~ yell.

“Why, a dance, of course. Unless, you have a partner you’d prefer?”

 _He does_.

Yata wanted to either scream that thought out loud or murder this awful little voice in his head. Both. Both was good. 

“I don’t and I don’t intend to look for one.”

“Come now, Fushimi-kun. There are some young ladies who were looking forward to see our “shy youngest” take the floor tonight. Let us not disappoint, hm? Scepter 4 is, after all, an organization that works to facilitate the happiness of the people.”

Fushimi groaned, but apparently considered arguing any further to be a huge waste of his time. He held one hand out towards Munakata, resigned to his fate…

…only to have his hand snatched by someone notably shorter and about 100% more red-headed than his captain. 

“Misaki?!”

Munakata’s face didn’t even change. “Oh my, Fushimi-kun. Had you told me that you’d found a suitable partner already, I wouldn’t have bothered you. Well then, Yata-kun, Fushimi-kun. We will leave you to your dance.”

“W-wait. Hang on,” Yata said, panicking a little at his own sudden movement (but not letting go of the hand he was holding on to).

“Kusanagi-shi,” Munakata continued, as if he hadn’t heard at all, “Have you gotten a chance to look at the sculptures on the fourth floor? They are magnificent.”

Kusanagi smiled, wrapped an arm around Awashima’s waist (only to have it slapped away) and said, “Haven’t had the pleasure. You two mind showing me the way?”

“Wai-Captain!”

“Fushimi-kun,” Munakata, who was moving ever further away from the younger men, turned and said, eyes glittering with amusement, “I expect you to enjoy yourself tonight. I know you’ll exceed expectations, as always.”

“Wait, what? That doesn’t even mean–HEY! don’t just walk away!”

“Kusanagi-san, you can’t be serious! Who the hell wants to go see dumb sculptures anyways?”

Both Fushimi and Yata protested at the same time, attached by the hands and stuck standing where they were. 

(Funny enough, it occurred to neither of them to just simply let go of the other’s hand)

~~~

“Do you even know how to dance?”

“Shut up, I know how to dance!”

“Wiggling around doesn’t count as dancing, Misaki.”

“I don’t remember you being such an expert either, Saru! At least I made an attempt.”

“I don’t know if what you did in the past can actually count as an attempt at dancing.”

“Well then, do _you_ know how to dance?”

Saruhiko sighed. “I know enough. This isn’t the first time I’ve been forced to one of these things.”

Yata didn’t let his mind wonder who taught Fushimi how to for too long. Somehow, with just Fushimi here, it was easier for Yata to let go of whatever annoyance he’d been feeling and just focus on what was going on. It felt like it’d be okay.

Fushimi sighed again and moved them onto the dance floor. There were a few people slow dancing to whatever the orchestra was playing.

“Just follow my lead.”

“What? I’m not some _girl_ , you know.”

“Oh, do I ever. A _girl_ would at least have bothered to brush her teeth. Although, so would’ve anyone else…”

“Don’t change the subject–!”

“I’m leading because I know how to dance, okay?”

Even Yata had nothing to say to that. Luckily, Fushimi chose an easy, slow dance that was easy to follow. And Yata, being a tactile person, caught on relatively quickly. He only stumbled, like, five times. It wasn’t bad. He caught on relatively okay.

“Heh, not bad,” Fushimi murmured lowly so no one else could hear. 

Yata didn’t exactly shiver, but he felt a slight tingle in his cheeks and his neck seemed to trap the feeling of Fushimi breathing on it.

“See? Told you I could dance.”

“Yes, yes,” Fushimi responded, sounding bored.

For a second, Yata worried he’d somehow said a 0 point answer again. It was weird, it’d never bothered him before. But he wanted to say the right things today. Like he felt as if today of all days, this moment out of all the moments, was the day to say the right things. He wanted 100 points. 

But Fushimi didn’t give him a score, instead he pulled back a bit, looked Yata in the eye, and asked, “So what’s got you so on edge?”

(If Yata weren’t so busy being embarrassed and trying to avoid the other man’s annoyed and searching gaze, he’d have noticed the pink dusting Fushimi’s cheeks)

Yata sputtered a little, caught off guard by the question. Fushimi rolled his eyes.

“As if I wouldn’t notice. Even the Lieutenant noticed. There’s something isn’t there? You’re a moron, but running out of the room screaming like some kind of wounded animal is new even for you.”

Yata muttered, “It wasn’t anything. I just didn’t want to be there suddenly.”

Fushimi gave a snort but left it at that. However, the air between the two had changed. There wasn’t any more light teasing and Fushimi’s breath now made Yata uncomfortably aware that the reason he’d come to this dumb event in the first place was standing right there and he’d need to say something eventually. Meanwhile, Fushimi had noticed his partner tensing up, but refused to say anything until Yata did. He’d tried already, there were no second miracles happening tonight.

“I was mad,” Yata finally said, eyes searching Fushimi this time for a response.

“I see,” Fushimi sighed. As if he needed to be told that. He wasn’t that dumb. That Yata was mad at him about something or the other was pretty obvious, but why was the question. He waited, but when Yata didn’t say anything more, he got impatient. 

“Look, if you’re looking for an apology, you’ll have to say why you’re mad at me first, okay? I’m not apologizing for dumb shit I don’t even know I did.”

(And defensive.)

Yata paused (well, sort of, he was still dancing) and thought that through. Apologize? Is that what he wanted Fushimi to do? No, that seemed dumb. There was no way he’d ask an apology for him being jealous. It sounded dumb just thinking it.

Although, he wouldn’t deny it’d feel better. 

“ _Misaki, you’re just like Saruhiko used to be. You think like how he used to think_ ,” is what Anna had told him. Like Saruhiko, huh?

“Saruhiko,” Yata said seriously, “Tell me the truth.”

“Tsk, you need to ask me a question first, you know.”

“Shut up, I’m getting there.”

Yata took a big breath and, “Do you want me to apologize for leaving you behind for Mikoto-san and Homra?”

“What?!”

Yata didn’t answer, just kept looking Fushimi straight in the eye. Fushimi clicked his tongue and looked down.

“It’s not like I wanted an apology for it. I didn’t even want to tell you. Idiot, if that’s what’s been bothering you, then stop. I told you to forget it didn’t I?”

Yata still didn’t answer. Fushimi, realizing that wasn’t going to be enough, clicked his tongue again but this time, he turned back to look Yata in the eye again.

“I said no, didn’t I? It’s not something I ever expected an apology for. It’s not like you were necessarily abandoning me either, right? I knew it was dumb from the very beginning. It was pretty pathetic really. I don’t need an apology for that kind of thing, as if that’d make me feel better. It’d just make things worse. Better to just let these things die, Misaki.”

He trailed off in the end, becoming less and less sure of himself and more and more caged off again. 

 _Stupid Saru_.

“It’s not pathetic,” Yata said, not breaking eye contact, “But I don’t disagree. I don’t want an apology for this kind of thing either. That’d just make it worse, right? I just… I just wanted to be angry, I guess. 

Yata sighed and said, “I guess I just didn’t want you to pick a path I couldn’t follow you on. I didn't wanna lose you again.”

Fushimi gave a start. 

“Wait, when did we start talking about you? That’s what you were worried about?”

It was Yata’s turn to be on the defensive now. He didn't even think about where all his words were coming from anymore, he just let them free.

“Well, yeah, I mean you and your stupid King have got this weird buddy-buddy thing going on, right? He praises you for like everything, right? And you and him talk like you’re on the same wavelength. And he’s your King, but I can’t _stand_ him. And you’ve got friends inside your own clan now–don’t you lie and say you don’t–and I can’t get along with _them_ either and-and…”

“And it’s like you’re not even wanted anymore?” Fushimi finished for him. 

“Feh,” Fushimi snorted and muttered under his breath, “What a pair we make…”

It was so quiet that Yata almost didn’t catch it.

“So it’s true then?” Yata whispered, leaning back into Fushimi, noticing that somehow their feet were still dancing, “You felt like this? The entire time?”

Fushimi snorted and muttered, “It’s not like I felt like this every day, you know. We don’t all get so obsessed with our own feelings. Some of us know how to regulate.”

“You mean you know how to hide.”

“Stopped me from having a breakdown and running off screaming.”

Yata thought to himself that that may have been better. At least he’d have known something was wrong then. But then, maybe not. He hadn’t known much about Saru. Or Mikoto-san. And he hadn’t _wanted_ to understand had he? 

But things changed. He’d changed. And Saru had too. Before, Saruhiko would never have admitted this painful stuff to him. Yata still didn’t know much, but he was sure of that. 

“Do you ever want me to leave Homra? To join the Blues?”

Fushimi actually laughed out loud at that, “You? In Scepter 4? Misaki, get real.”

Fushimi’s serious face shoved into Yata’s field of vision, stopping the impending temper tantrum, “Quit being stupid. Aren’t you the one always running around screaming how Homra is your home? How it’s your one and only? The idea of you running to some other clan…”

Fushimi chuckled and shook his head. “Stop comparing you to me, stupid. It isn’t really a good comparison. Whatever you’re feeling and whatever I felt… You probably shouldn’t look for the answers in me, okay? 

“Yeah, well,” Yata said, “This time it’s the same. I don’t _like_ it, but I don’t want you to leave the Blues either.”

“Huh?” Fushimi said, raising an eyebrow, “Who said I would? Was that even in question?”

“Bastard,” Yata growled, “You know what I mean.”

 _We can’t go back. We’ve picked and now we’ve got to stick with it._  

The unspoken words seemed to hang between them. In truth, both had already knew that. Neither man was the type to respect people who made a choice only to go back on it like it was nothing. Neither were the type to break their word. They’d stopped being able to turn back from the second Yata grabbed Suoh Mikoto’s hand and Fushimi accepted his Sabre from Munakata Reisi. They’d chosen their clans then and there, whether they’d known it at the time or not. 

And now here they were, five years later.

“We don’t have to stop seeing each other, you know. It’s not like some stupid romance novel, we’re going to be fine, moron,” Fushimi said, patting Yata’s back the best he could while slow dancing.

“Wh-who said that’s what I thought?”

Fushimi kindly didn’t point out that the tears streaming down the other boy’s face said enough. 

“We’ll be fine.”

Yata kindly didn’t point out how awkward that had sounded.

Yata thought about Homra and Fushimi, alone in a corner. He thought about Fushimi’s face as he burned his mark and his own seething hatred that followed. He remembered Fushimi fighting for his king, leg bleeding and bruises littered all over his body, and his own ice-cold fear as he put more and more power into his skateboard, begging it to go just a little faster. He remembered Fushimi’s face when he reluctantly admitted that he’d been lonely and he remembered his own face twisting trying to admit the same thing to himself. He remmebered the feeling of watching Fushimi turn away from him when he let him go. He’d probably remember these things forever.

But he knew that he’d remember this too. He’d remember that Fushimi looked amazing in a suit, that Fushimi was warm, that Fushimi had said they’d be alright. These were things he’d remember forever too.

He’d still be annoyed at the thought of Fushimi not wanting him, but Fushimi had gone through it too. And Fushimi was alright now. He would be too. The Slates were gone, the clans were working together still, their friendship was… getting there. 

“Yeah, okay.”

If Yata pressed a little closer than was strictly necessary for slow dancing, no one said anything. 

~~~

“Fushimi-kun,” Munakata’s voice drifted over and woke the two boys who were sleeping, leaning on each other, on an unnecessarily ornate couch, “Are you ready to depart?”

Yata and Fushimi started and blinked the sleep from their eyes. Upon realizing who it was, Yata began to bristle…

…until he felt a squeeze of his hand. 

“We’ll be fine, remember?”

Fushimi got up to go with his captain.

“You too, Yata-chan. Time to go.”

Yata turned to his left to find Kusanagi beckoning him up. He got up to go with his fellow clansmen. 

_We can’t go back. We’ve made our choices._

_We’ll be fine_. 

“I’ll see you Saturday?”

“I’ll teach you some skateboarding.”

“I’d rather die, thanks.”

“Don’t be late.”

“Tsk, unlike some people, I have work to finish. I’ll text you when I start heading over.”

Yata tensed up, ready to feel the rush of irritation he’d come to expect. It hit him, but it was more like a tickle. An itch. He looked up to see Fushimi carefully trying to gauge his reaction. 

“Look, Misaki–”

Yata waved him off.

 _We’ll be fine_.

“Yeah, okay.”

~~~

“So, Yata-chan, meet anyone at the party? Have a good time _dancing_?”

“Saruhiko looks really nice in a suit, huh?”

“Wh-what?”

“It must have been the material. It was soft and warm too. And it smelled nice. And it felt _safe_ , you know? I mean, it must have been a really well-made suit. He looked _awesome_ on him. I wonder if I can get one like that.”

“…”

“Kusanagi-san, what’s wrong?”

“I’m done playing these kiddie crush games, okay? Shut up and let me drive.”

“What?”

~~~

 _fin_.


End file.
